


Patience is a Virtue

by anywh3r3y0uwant2g0



Series: Ineffable Husbands One Shots [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Awake The Snake, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, aziraphale lives off technicalities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25028407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anywh3r3y0uwant2g0/pseuds/anywh3r3y0uwant2g0
Summary: It's July 1st! Time for Crowley to wake up! But... an entire minute passes and Aziraphale has heard nothing from his favourite demon.... Has something happened to him? (nothinghappened,he'sliterallyjustasleep)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Husbands One Shots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784653
Comments: 8
Kudos: 93





	Patience is a Virtue

**Author's Note:**

> It's still!! Technically July first so I'm not late! It's 11:54 pm, this counts!!

It had been an uneventful two months. And Aziraphale had missed Crowley dearly, he was not too high and mighty to admit that. He did have too much pride, however, to call Crowley back and invite him to the bookshop after he had quickly rejected his suggestion. Pride was a sin, but _patience_ was a virtue. Or so he told himself multiple times a day in order to quell his itching impulses to pick up the blasted phone and call the napping demon. 

But he didn’t have to wait much longer! July was now mere hours away. 

At the exact turning of the day, Aziraphale sat near the phone patiently. 

A minute passed. Crowley didn’t call. 

Perhaps it just took some time to get up and walk to the phone. Not to worry, not to worry.

Fifteen more minutes passed. Where was Crowley? Had he forgotten? 

Maybe he was waiting for Aziraphale to call. Yes, that must be it. 

Aziraphale picked up the phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. He was ok with being the first to make a move, as long as it meant he got to talk to Crowley.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang! Aziraphale began to lose hope. 

Crowley didn’t answer. The phone went to voicemail. 

“Dearest,” Aziraphale started hesitantly. Maybe Crowley just didn’t want to talk to him? No, no that couldn’t be it! “It’s July now… You said you’d set the alarm for July and I know the world hasn’t changed much but I’d love to see you… have you over… you can watch me eat cake! It would be ever so lovely…” He paused multiple times, expecting Crowley to pick up the phone. He didn’t. What on earth was going on??

Aziraphale hung up after asking him to get back to him soon. 

Shortly after he was off the phone, an unwanted thought popped into his head that made him feel sick to his stomach. What if something had happened to him? What if he was hurt? What if he had been hurt for a while and Aziraphale didn’t even notice because he was trusting that the demon was asleep and distracting himself with his baking?

“Oh dear, oh dear!” Aziraphale mumbled to himself, hands wringing nervously. 

He had to go over there. July had been going on for half an hour now, there was no reason for Crowley to be ignoring him in this way if there _wasn’t_ something seriously wrong. 

Aziraphale hated to just burst in with a miracle, it was quite rude. 

Before he did that, he checked once more if Crowley was even in his flat. He was. Of course he was, Aziraphale had been checking throughout the entirety of the two months. And he didn’t seem to be in distress but… well, Aziraphale couldn’t just assume! He had to go over there. He just had to! Crowley had left him with no choice, what with his ignoring him for nearly forty-five minutes!

Aziraphale paced around his shop making fussy noises, considering and reconsidering and trying to talk himself down. But he couldn’t. He _needed_ to go over there. 

With one final groan, he closed his eyes and snapped. 

When he opened them he was in Crowley’s flat. He had been here before, of course, he had been invited last time. 

Everything was still and dark. There was a layer of dust over the few pieces of furniture that resided in the flat, a telltale sign that Crowley had not inhabited this area for a long while.

Aziraphale stood stiffly in the dark, waiting for his eyes to adjust. His shoulders were very hunched and his hands were moving furiously; he looked like he might just pop out of existence from sheer anxiety. 

Finally, his eyes adjusted and he quietly padded his way down the hall that he knew led to the bedroom.

The door was closed, of course. Crowley always slept with it closed. So he was probably still in there. What on earth was that demon doing?

Aziraphale gripped the doorknob with white knuckles as he turned it very slowly, hearing and feeling the _click_ of the latch. He pushed the door open extremely cautiously. 

The bedroom was even darker than the rest of the flat, but it had a brilliant depiction of the night sky overhead. It was like a skylight, but also not because it always displayed the stars, day and night. Aziraphale had been very taken aback by it the first time he had seen it and all its glory. Crowley had shrugged and said he liked the stars. The angel had wholeheartedly agreed, absolutely enchanted with the ones shining right there above Crowley every time he slept. Aziraphale had slept with him under the stars that night, a truly remarkable experience. 

Once his eyes had adjusted to the bedroom’s atmosphere Aziraphale proceeded into the room on shaky legs. 

He slowly approached the bed, letting out a loud sigh of relief when he saw the steady rising and falling of someone breathing under many layers of covers. 

He saw a tangle of bright red hair poking out from under the mounds of covers and very gently reached to pull them down and reveal his favourite face in the whole of Heaven and Earth and Hell and the entire universe. 

What he found instead was more hair. Well, not exactly. He found his favourite face… obstructed by hair. He saw the sharp outline of Crowley’s jaw and the soft curve of his lips where strands fluttered about every time he exhaled. 

Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile at the endearing demon that lay before him. He watched the slight movements that proved he was alive and well, just resting. He searched for his eyes in the choppy sea of red waves but came up empty-handed. He considered brushing the hair off his face, but he really didn’t want to bother this sleeping beauty. 

Crowley startled a _squeak_ out of him when he moved. Aziraphale stepped away, not wanting to seem like he was meddling, and ended up walking backward right into the wall, making a soft thumping sound. 

The demon had attempted to just flip over but was aroused by a _thump_ that had come from somewhere near him. He sat bolt upright, amber eyes trying to focus on the source of the sound. When he saw a man in the shadows he felt a jolt of adrenaline pump through his veins. 

He reflexively turned on the light without taking his eyes off the man. In the better light, he saw that he was looking back at him, a hand covering his mouth, eyes wide in a mixture of horror and excitement. 

Of course it was him. He flopped back onto his bed, covering his face with his hands. “Angel!” his groan was muffled by the barrier of his hands. 

“Y-yes, my love?” Aziraphale approached the bed cautiously, he knew Crowley didn’t like to be woken up. 

“You scared the living daylights outta me!” his hands flailed in the air as he yelled to the stars, his vocal cords screaming in protest after having been neglected for two months. 

“Well… I could say the same to you!” Aziraphale countered, arms crossing over his chest. “It’s July! I had expected a call, you said you’d be awake by now, it was only reasonable of me to assume something terrible had happened to you-” Aziraphale said quickly, expressing all the anxiety that had riddled him for the last hour. 

“Oh, Christ, Aziraphale, I’m sorry. Truly, I am. How long did I oversleep?” Crowley had sat up now, gazing at the angel with genuine remorse in his eyes. 

“Well… about an hour by now…” Aziraphale trailed off. Saying it now, it seemed silly how concerned he was. 

“An- an hour- an _hour?!_ You mean to tell me-” Crowley whirled around in his bed trying to see the clock. He let out a loud laugh. “Angel!!” he interrupted his thought with more laughter. “I thought patience was a virtue,” he smirked at him. 

Aziraphale was bright red. “Well, I- I- you- it’s July!!” he stated again. 

Crowley snorted. He pulled back the covers, inviting Aziraphale into the bed. The angel huffed, but slipped off his shoes and sat down on the edge of the bed. He heard Crowley exhale through his nose in a small laugh behind him and then felt two thin arms wrap around his body, a head resting on his shoulder. He turned to face Crowley, a small smile on his lips in spite of himself. 

“Good morning, angel,” Crowley said quietly, his golden eyes soft with adoration as he stared into Aziraphale’s soul. 

“It’s July,” Aziraphale whispered the only vaguely coherent thought that his brain could process with Crowley this close to him. 

Crowley’s eyes crinkled with mirth, shaking his head slightly, hair tickling Aziraphale. “That it is, angel. But don’t you think it’d be grand to get just a _little_ more shut-eye?” he tried to ease Aziraphale’s body down onto the bed but the angel would not have it. 

“You’ve slept for _two months,_ Crowley,” he broke out of the embrace to face the demon. 

“I’ve slept _alone_ for two months. It’s an entirely different experience if you’re here,” he did his best impression of Aziraphale’s pleading gaze, raising his eyebrows and making his eyes all wide and sweet like the angel did. 

Apparently it worked. Aziraphale clicked his tongue before letting out a sigh. He slid under the covers apprehensively. 

Crowley grinned and slithered to cuddle in right beside the angel. All of his previous reluctance disappeared. He moved his hand up and around to attempt to detangle Crowley’s messy bedhead. 

Crowley hummed happily and leaned even further into the angel, inhaling his scent. “Missed you,” he breathed out. 

“No, you didn’t,” Aziraphale said through a grin. “You were asleep. _I_ missed _you,_ ” he said pointedly.

Crowley scoffed. 

“I did!” Aziraphale continued, “I missed your laugh and your eyes and your soft hair and your even softer yet undeniably infuriating personality-”

“Oi!” Crowley propped himself up to inspect the angel’s face.

Aziraphale was beaming up at him; that was a face you couldn’t be mad at. Crowley tried to sneer at him, but the fluttering feeling in his chest gave him cause to believe it just came out a normal smile of pure joy. 

He plopped back down, laying his head just below his angel’s collar bone. He felt a hand gently sweep back the hair that had landed on his forehead and then an impossibly tender pair of lips brushed the place where his hair hand been seconds ago. 

Crowley looked up at him, his eyes giving away his unbridled delight at the situation. “Truly, I missed _everything_ about you, love,” Aziraphale said, hand continuing to work through his hair. 

“I missed you too, angel,” Crowley said honestly. 

The angel sighed harshly. “You couldn’t possibly-” Aziraphale began to protest before a finger gently touched his lips, not actually preventing him from speaking. 

“Hush. I did,” Crowley propped himself up once more so he was above Aziraphale’s face. 

The angel had quite the image before him. The love of his life smiling down at him in that way he only smiled at _him,_ eyes all soft and wrinkled at the edges, lips turned upward happily, stars framing his face. Aziraphale moved his hand up to cup his cheek and felt all his breath leave his lungs when Crowley’s smile widened and he leaned into the touch. He very, _very_ gently pulled Crowley’s head down, glancing at his lips, then back to his eyes in a silent question (this was new for them, after all). Crowley only smiled knowingly at him before he continued Aziraphale’s movements, inching closer, eyes fluttering shut, lips meeting softly. They kissed like they hadn’t seen each other in two months, which, of course, they hadn’t. 

Crowley really _had_ missed this angel, this stubborn, concerned, sweet angel who broke into his flat after an hour of the months changing because he had promised he’d see him in July and, well, now it was July. This silly, irreplaceable, technicality-filled angel. But what mattered was that he had him now, and had no plans of changing this. Crowley finally had his angel. 

And Aziraphale _finally_ had his demon.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked reading that as much as I liked writing it!! Please leave a comment or kudos, it would make my day :) Thanks for reading!! <3


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